


Show and Tell

by decaf_kitty



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:33:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22581064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decaf_kitty/pseuds/decaf_kitty
Summary: Kakashi and Iruka get drunk together at a bar.Iruka wants to see under Kakashi's mask, so he makes a demand.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka
Comments: 31
Kudos: 426
Collections: Kakashi x Iruka





	Show and Tell

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't shake this idea... I loved it, and I hope you do too. <3
> 
> ____

He’d accidentally gotten drunk, but so had Kakashi, and that made it all worth it.

Shinobi filled the bar around them, drinking and gossiping. The cacophony of noise meant their conversation went unheard except for the two of them. They’d been drinking beer for hours; they’d even moved their bar stools closer together as more people streamed into the bar. Iruka didn’t mind speaking at a low whisper, he knew the legendary Copy Nin could hear him. He could see Kakashi’s single grey eye attentively considering him, watching the deepening flush go through Iruka’s scarred cheeks, noticing but not commenting on the way Iruka drowsily leaned more and more against the bar’s wood counter as the alcohol settled inside him. 

They had been trading stories about Team 7 for much of the night. It was pleasant, hearing Kakashi’s keen insight about Naruto, and also quite hilarious, learning just how much the three kids harassed and harangued him. Of course, Iruka did his compassionate duty, offering up tales of pre-genin destroying the Academy, ruining his lesson plans, and generally making a mess out of everything. Although Kakashi remained rather expressionless, his face mostly hidden under hitai-ate and mask, he did the wondrous thing of eye-smiling perhaps more than he’d ever had before. Buzzing pleasure swarmed about Iruka’s tummy when his stories occasionally made Kakashi laugh. He couldn’t stop himself from blushing, recognizing and relishing that Kakashi’s gaze never strayed away from him the whole night. 

But Kakashi’s mask stayed in place and kept covering half his face. He was definitely drinking: he was definitely drunk. The beer was disappearing from both their bottles; they were being regularly replaced. Nevertheless, Iruka never saw Kakashi drink. He was just so fearfully swift. It should have been terrifying, witnessing firsthand Kakashi move as supernaturally fast as rumors suggested. 

Instead Iruka found himself pouting. He felt put out, never getting the chance to see the other man’s face. The heavy blush up his neck and across his cheeks worsened as the night went on. He could physically feel his lips falling down into a disappointed frown. 

As always, Kakashi’s eye continued to be half-lidden, his look perpetually lazy and laid-back. His eye-smiles and slouch stayed the same no matter how much beer he consumed. 

Yet his pale skin, the small visible bit of his face, noticeably pinkened. 

Beyond that, though – so very frustratingly - Kakashi was the same as several hours earlier.

In contrast, Iruka started to rest most of his weight against the bar, unable to hold himself up. He wasn’t even trying to hide his increasing fixation with Kakashi. His eyes kept drifting down to the blue cotton cloth, and sometimes he glowered at the mask, trying to wish it out of existence. But it turned out he had no magical talent, and Kakashi’s face stayed hidden away.

It was such bullshit.

Kakashi clearly noticed. Of course he did: he was staring at Iruka, and Iruka wasn’t being subtle.

“You want to know what I look like?” he finally asked, his voice soft and curious.

Irritation prickling through him, Iruka bumped their knees together and immediately replied, “Naruto told me you don’t show anyone.” He worked his mouth, barely restraining a displeased scowl, but he so disliked hearing the truth aloud. “Gai told me he’s never seen you, either.”

The honest confession inspired something new: a simultaneous eye-smile and double-shouldered shrug from Kakashi. 

“That is true,” he admitted. “I don’t show most people.”

Iruka jolted upright: he heard underneath the statement. “You show some people?” 

Kakashi’s grey eye seemed to darken… but it might have just been the bad lighting of the bar. Certainly Iruka felt like he was obsessively watching for change in the other shinobi; he could have possibly been making things up, he so hoped to be making some impact on the jōnin. 

Desperation fluttered about his throat: he badly wanted to see Kakashi’s face.

Very badly.

For the first time, Kakashi tilted his head to the side, his silver hair shifting with him. His grey eye remained perfectly trained on Iruka as he answered in a quiet, cool tone, “I show my lovers.”

Iruka felt his whole face burn hot. He stopped breathing - but he deliberately didn’t look away. 

So… they just looked at each other.

Absurdly composed, Kakashi didn’t react to Iruka’s embarrassed blush. He instead waited with disturbing patience, something that Iruka did not have, not even the littlest bit. But he did have ridiculous amounts of another thing: liquid courage in the form of alcohol flooding his blood and brain, and it provided something he did not have otherwise: a truly stupid sort of bravery.

Iruka heard himself say:

“Show me.”

Yet it was as if he had said nothing. Sitting so close beside him that their knees were touching under the counter, Kakashi didn’t flinch or blink or shrug. He didn’t do anything, actually. He was so still that - for the worst skin-crawling second of his life - Iruka really thought Kakashi had used a Substitution jutsu and had already vanished into the crowd of shinobi around them. 

Iruka could feel his eyes crease and his chest rise as worried tension thundered through him.

He started to say something, maybe apologize, when Kakashi stood up in one graceful motion.

Suddenly Iruka was looking upwards at the stunning silhouette of Kakashi Hatake backlit by the dull golden lighting of the busy bar. His head spun at the abrupt change and the brightness. But he was soon captivated by the truly extraordinary look that the other man was now giving him.

Kakashi was commanding him in total silence.

He slid his hands into his pockets and strode through the crowd.

It was so insanely apparent that Iruka was supposed to follow him, but…

But holy shit.

He found himself just staring after the jōnin, slack-jawed in surprise.

Then the most amazing, awful thing happened.

Kakashi glanced over his shoulder back at Iruka using his one revealed grey eye. The metal of his hitai-ate sparkled in the strange lighting. The pink of his exposed skin seemed to glow hotly.

It all had Iruka stumbling to his feet and brushing by shinobi to get to him.

The destination was soon clear: they were heading to the men’s restrooms. It was almost not occurring to Iruka what was happening, but he sort-of understood it, even if it just couldn’t, wouldn’t sink through his dulled drunken thoughts. He didn’t need Kakashi to look back at him again. Shit, he didn’t want Kakashi to look back at him again! He was having great trouble absorbing his request – his demand? – that it had made a difference, that those two words persuaded Kakashi to do what he’d wanted all night, what he’d wanted for months and years.

There was no one else in the restroom.

Kakashi was standing by the farthest stall, his hands still in his pockets, mask still on his face.

He gestured with a short nod to the stall, and Iruka obeyed like it had been a shouted order.

Intoxication made his world fuzzy and his logic stumbling and distracted. For some confused reason, he found himself relieved that the stall was clean - he should praise the bar staff for their hard work. 

Iruka’s gaze was still on the floor when Kakashi stepped inside the stall, locked the door behind him, and soundly put his hand against the wall beside Iruka’s blushing, scarred cheek. Suddenly, they were only a few inches away – maybe three or four inches at most – and Iruka found himself staring deeply into Kakashi’s gorgeous grey eye and at the intricate swirls of his Konoha hitai-ate. 

He could feel heat radiating from the other man, real delicious heat, and it combined so sweetly with his own shameless flush, making the whole world around them seem delightfully warm.

Then, slowly, so slowly…

Kakashi’s gloved hand lifted from his side… and touched his mask… and…

Oh, he’s beautiful.

Iruka’s eyes widened, and his lips parted in soundless surprise. 

He knew his breathing had doubled; he could feel the ache of his lungs craving more air. In an instant, his skin burned feverishly hot. Sweat licked down his throat into his blue shinobi shirt. 

He couldn’t take it all in, not with Kakashi so close, but he was trying to do it, he was desperately trying to do it. There was so much more pale skin that he’d ever imagined: Kakashi’s skin tone was much whiter under his mask line, which made sense, even though Iruka had never thought about it. The jōnin’s scar continued down the left side of his face, and then…

There was this utterly outrageous, astonishing black beauty mark by Kakashi’s mouth.

It was little and tiny and _sexy_.

So very terribly, he’d never, ever considered Kakashi having a beauty mark.

It alone made Iruka wonder if he was drunkenly dreaming… the dot was pure absolute sex appeal. Really, the man’s whole damn face was so appealing, and it made Kakashi so much more frighteningly attractive, which really hadn’t seemed possible just a few seconds ago, that Iruka shook his head back and forth in utter full disbelief of what he was seeing before him.

He startled right out of his skin when Kakashi suddenly spoke.

The words didn’t even make sense at first, because Iruka was so fixated on Kakashi’s pink lips.

Gosh, the man had seriously pretty lips.

Then, a second later, Iruka realized Kakashi had asked him in a tenor so very low and dark that it continuously rumbled through Iruka’s trembling physique and into his deepest self:

“Are you satisfied, sensei?”

The glorious beauty of Kakashi Hatake had not sobered Iruka, but actually had made him even more drunk, and so he rose his desperately awed gaze up to Kakashi’s grey eye and said in this steady strong authoritative voice he didn’t even really recognize as his own, “Show me more.”

Ah, now…

Now… without the mask, he could see Kakashi’s full response….

His eye-smile was mirrored with a smile sliding pleased across Kakashi’s lips. 

Iruka could barely breathe. His scarred cheeks felt lit aflame.

Kakashi slipped his fingers over Iruka’s wrist out of sight, then swept their hands forward, until –

Shock destroyed all of Iruka’s dignity at once: he actually gasped aloud and stared into Kakashi’s easygoing grey eye with his own eyes so wide it hurt and his mouth hanging completely open. 

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

His hand was on Kakashi’s cock.

Sure, there were the man’s pants in the way, but –

Fuck, that was Kakashi’s cock, and –

_Fuck, he’s crazy fucking hard._

Kakashi was holding Iruka’s hand there, too; he’d somehow arranged Iruka’s fingers in such a way that they were touching nearly the entire length of his thick arousal. It was stupid how much Iruka’s body defaulted into primitive instinct: he stretched out his fingers against the tight cloth, feeling up Kakashi’s cock out of covetous want. The only thought in his head, banging against his skull, was one word, over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and it was –

_Yes. Yes. Yes._

Kakashi’s whispered wish was so unexpected, but it was silky-smooth sensual temptation.

“What do I get to see, sensei?”

Iruka slowly closed his mouth as his heart throb, throb, throbbed in his chest. Kakashi kept his hand over Iruka’s, keeping him on his hard cock, but he was acting so dangerously nonchalant about it, it was as if what was happening below their eyes was all a distant, distant dream. 

Irrationality urged Iruka to act, and he brought up his hand to his hair, and…

He tugged out his hairtie, letting his dark hair fall to his shoulders.

Shaking his head to settle his hair, Iruka looked up at Kakashi through dark eyelashes.

Oh so silently, Kakashi studied him with a slowly sincerely interested expression, and then… he leaned forward, bringing his scarred left cheek and his black beauty mark beside Iruka’s face.

It was so, so wild when Iruka realized Kakashi had his nose buried in Iruka’s hair, and he was smelling Iruka’s freed hair, and, oh, oh fuck, he was actually kissing Iruka, right by his ear, and –

Iruka’s eyes shut uncontrollably. 

Because Kakashi – 

Ah, Kakashi’s cock hardened under Iruka’s hand.

Just from…

Just from seeing, touching, kissing Iruka’s liberated hair. 

Iruka felt his body melting against the wall. He couldn’t move, he was so painfully aroused; he wanted to cry, or sigh, or moan, or whine, he wasn’t even sure anymore. But he loved Kakashi’s heat, from his delicious arousal, from his shoulder and chest pressed against Iruka’s unstable frame, from his impossibly pretty lips and the exquisite kiss he was giving Iruka just out of view.

He stared pitifully after the other man as Kakashi pulled away from him.

Oh… oh no.

Kakashi was even more beautiful when he blushed.

Now the jōnin was flushed a fine pink. 

Worse, he seemed to know how divine and sinful he looked.

His eye-smile matched a truly malicious smile as he remarked in such a sly, sly tone, “Thanks, sensei. That’ll make my nights away from the village much sweeter.”

Incredulous red-hot amazement rushed up through Iruka from his toes to the tips of his ears. He was still staring, unable to speak, as Kakashi moved aside their hands from his arousal and then stepped away from Iruka, his smile softening into one of decisively sated pleasure.

“We should drink again sometime,” Kakashi proposed, steadily looking directly at Iruka.

Without missing a beat, the jōnin then adjusted his mask over his face and unlocked the bathroom stall. Seemingly realizing that Iruka was not going to piece himself back together anytime soon, Kakashi offered up a little wave of a gloved hand and…

… and then he walked out of the restroom with a decidedly delighted bounce to his step.

Iruka had never in his life used a jutsu to escape a bar, but he certainly did this time, even if it was a drunken mess of a Body Flicker and it nearly had him colliding face-first with the side of the building instead of his feet hitting the street. He could nearly not remember the way home he was so very disoriented, and his head was spinning, spinning, spinning, but he – 

Well, fuck, he got there, he got home.

Full of alcohol and dreams and desire and shock and exhilaration, Iruka stared at his calendar, trying to figure out the next time he and Kakashi could drink together.


End file.
